You Should Have Seen the Basement – Art Paul Schlosser

You Should Have Seen the Basement

by Art Paul Schlosser

It was a dark and scary night. The wind blew hard as my car was running out of gas, and looking around, it looked like there was no gas station in sight. I had gotten lost by accidentally turning down a road which I thought was a shortcut. But was this really an accident or fate?

I looked at my phone and noticed the battery had died, so Triple A was not an option. I had no idea where I was or what I was going to do when the rain subsided, and the full moon shined on the house like a mansion not too far away. Well, thinking maybe there was a possibility that they had a phone, I thought: ‘What the heck? It’s not that far of a walk.” The house was gothic-looking and old like it might have been built by some German in the late 1800s. I was bored anyhow because my radio wasn’t working, and I was stuck there because my car had finally stalled from being out of gas. I felt fortunate that I had reached the porch just before the storm started up again with thunder and lightning and such harsh winds.

There was no doorbell, just a demonic-looking door knocker that creaked when I tried to use it. I decided that the house looked abandoned, so maybe I would just try the door. But the door itself just opened before I even had a chance to touch the doorknob. In the hallway, there were candelabras on the walls, but it didn’t look like there was any electricity. I started to leave because I thought it might be a waste of time, but the storm was pouring hard, and the door seemed to be stuck. Just then, a very pale-looking guy with strangelooking teeth welcomed me and asked me if I would like a glass of white wine from 1871, which he said was a good year for the wine he was offering me. I asked about a phone or a nearby gas station, but I regretted that. Though he was happy to see me, he did not have a phone, and the nearest gas station was 25 or 30 miles away. With the

storm, he didn’t think I wanted to walk in the dark, especially since the road led to a dark forest and the highway was also at least 20 miles away.

He offered that I stay in his beautiful but rather old abode. He took me up to the guest room, but on the way, I noticed one room had a very odd-looking piece of furniture that I thought might be a coffin. Well, I know what you’re thinking: I should really get going. I said thank you very much, but I think I will just check my phone to see if it is working.

Heading back down the stairs, one of the steps opened, and I slid down this compartment that led to a torture chamber. In the basement where I ended up, the hairiest looking thing came towards me with an ax and said he was going to kill me if I didn’t follow him to the human cage where they put all the humans they were experimenting on. The basement reeked of human flesh and blood and of things previously burned. On the way to the cage, there was a man, or lady, or both, stitched together, being stretched on the stretching device. I asked the hairy-looking person, or thing, or animal, how long they had been living here. And either having been taught English or being human and picking it up, they said they had lived here since birth, which seemed to be more than a hundred years. The basement was lit with huge torches, one on each of the four corners, and by the hairy-looking thing, there was also a torch. On the opposite side of the basement, in the other direction, there was a loud creature that looked very scary.

Then, I woke up and realized I had not turned off the scary movie I was watching just before I fell asleep.